October 10th

Content with the fact that her more-than-capable husband was currently on the hunt for the wizards that hurt her so badly, Hermione felt free to dwell on other matters. She was growing weary of sitting on the sidelines while the action was happening outside. The dramatic change in her feelings about the war startled her at first, but swiftly she was able to push the concern away. As much as she might have preferred not to get involved with the violence and power struggle, remaining neutral was no longer an option. Too much changed in the previous several months to go back to living with her head in the sand. While it was highly likely that her time had come and she wouldn't survive to a ripe old age, she had to do something.

She stared at the collection of names on the list Draco gave her. It wasn't as if she really needed to read them. Every single traitorous name was seared into her brain. Looking over the physical list simply helped her to focus. As thorough as the list of Rodolphus' co-conspirators was, she knew of at least two names that weren't listed. Likely their contributions were believed to be unimportant enough to include. Hermione knew better than most that seemingly insignificant acts weren't worthless at all. They added up over time.

"I have to leave for a little while. I'm not sure how long I'll be gone."

"You don't have to tell me every time you need to leave your own home, Draco. I'm not your keeper."

There'd been an odd shift between them since she returned the day before from Kingsley's flat. Maybe it started even before that, but seeing Antonin again reminded Hermione that she couldn't afford to be selfish. Not anymore. It was no longer Hermione versus the rest of the world. Even if she was never able to patch her relationship up with her husband, though his actions showed her that he was likely well on his way to forgiveness, she still had a son who needed to be protected. Draco could probably feel that she was pulling away again.

"Will you still be here when I get back?"

If she wanted a less complicated life, Hermione would've told him that she wouldn't and find another place to stay. Her presence in his flat complicated both of their lives. But, for a reason she didn't understand, she didn't want to leave. Not yet. Draco was also in no hurry to push her out the door. It was very possibly a decision they would come to regret very soon.

"Yes, Draco. I will still be here."

Relieved by her answer, he crossed the flat to make his exit. Looking up at the clock over the fireplace, Hermione was surprised to see that it was almost ten. She wasn't aware she'd been studying the list for as long as she had. Waiting just a few minutes after Draco's departure, she slipped out of the flat. She hadn't been lying when she told him that she would still be in his flat when he returned. If her plan went smoothly, she had every intention of being back before he came home.

For the first time since the day the Dark Lord died, Hermione Apparated to the Ministry of Magic. Though careful to avoid the actual building itself, she was closer than she'd been in months. Most of the Ministry officials would already have made their way inside the building hours earlier. Only a few believed themselves above working regular hours. Even fewer who despised using the Floo Network. Fearful that his movements were being tracked and because his wife's nosy sister worked as a Floo Network Regulator, Rabastan preferred Apparating to the office. There was only one door to the secure building that could be accessed from outside by those that worked within.

Hermione found a hiding place from where she could keep a close watch on those coming and going from the building. Thanks to an incident with a lost and drunken Muggle soon after the war ended, the entrance to the Ministry was no longer in a public toilet, out of order or otherwise. Too many complaints from the officials encouraged those in charge of security to find another way to conceal the employee entrance. Far less interesting, but a great deal more sanitary, a cloaked door was hidden in a brick wall much like Platform 9 3/4. She hoped as she kept her surveillance that Rabastan hadn't already entered the building before she arrived. Before she continued with her plan for the day, she wanted to be sure that he wouldn't be a complication. Dueling him had never been an enjoyable experience.

Five minutes after ten, an annoyed Rabastan appeared only steps away from Hermione. Worried at first that he would spot her, she relaxed when she saw the scowl on his face as he stomped towards the entrance. He really could be a petulant child. Evidently his morning had not gone well. It wasn't much of a stretch to believe he'd just come from his own home instead of one of his simpering mistresses. The thought made her laugh even as she pushed aside her own bitterness. Lord Voldemort's plan to create a stable regime through forcing his Death Eaters to marry created a large number of unhappy marriages. She wondered how many of the ordered marriages would dissolve in the aftermath of his death and how many would continue to limp along, miserable and unfulfilling.

Once she was satisfied that Rabastan wasn't about to backtrack and leave the Ministry, Hermione thought about the wretched Lestrange Estate in Norfolk that she loathed and despised. Moments later she stood in front of the ornate gates at the front of the property. She was able to cross into the grounds with no resistance. Keeping her eyes on the manor house, she ignored the shadow of the Dower House a short distance away. If she allowed herself to remember that she was in danger of being spotted by Rodolphus, she would never have the strength she needed to complete her trek to the front door.

Hermione expected a house-elf to answer the front door after she rang the bell. None of the Lestranges had ever been much for completing even simple tasks for themselves. Gemma Farley assimilated to her new lifestyle quite quickly after her arranged marriage to Rabastan was finalized. So when Madam Lestrange was the one to open the front door, Hermione was startled enough that it took her an extra second longer than it should have to disarm the frightened and confused witch.

"Your wards are terrible. Does Rabastan care so little for his family that he would leave you so exposed?"

Gemma didn't know what to say in response. She had never been a fighter and her fear was palpable. Always hiding behind her powerful husband, she never needed to protect herself. Holding Gemma's wand in one hand and hers in the other, Hermione held all of the power and Gemma knew it. She began to back up, but Hermione followed. There was a very important reason she was there that day and she wasn't to let anyone deter her from her task.

"Are you going to kill me?"

The squeak of Gemma's voice coupled with her question made Hermione laugh. She certainly wouldn't lose any sleep over ridding the world of the horrible woman. Following Antonin's confession that they'd had an ongoing, long-term affair in retaliation for their spouses' infidelities, she felt even more justified in ending the woman's pathetic existence. But, at least in that moment, she was more valuable to Hermione alive than dead.

"Not today."

Gemma's shoulders fell with relief and she looked like she was about to cry. It was pathetic. Hermione had no patience for weak women like her who didn't even know how to defend themselves. Snapping the woman's wand in two, she tossed the pieces onto the priceless rug underneath their feet. With her hand free, Hermione grabbed Gemma's throat in a tight squeeze.

"I'm here to give you a warning, Gemma. A warning I want you to take very seriously."

They were close enough to a wall thanks to the idiot's insistence on backing up that Hermione was able to push her against it with little effort. She wanted Gemma to feel powerless, to remember what it felt like to know Hermione held her life in her hands.

"If your daughter so much as looks at my son unkindly again, I'm going to forget all about the 'No Violence' policy at Hogwarts."

She could feel Gemma gulp underneath her hand.

"I will go up to the castle and teach your precious Julia just exactly what it is that her daddy does at the Ministry. Wasn't her birthday this summer? She's seventeen now, legally an adult. She needs to learn that her actions have consequences."

To further emphasize her point, Hermione slammed Gemma's head against the wall. Tears rolled out of the terrified woman's eyes. Her weakness made Hermione laugh again. There was no sympathy to be had for a woman who didn't learn how to take care of herself in their dangerous world. Maybe the witch was raised as a proper Slytherin Pureblood wife with no ambitions beyond ensuring her husband's success. Still didn't matter to Hermione. There was no excuse for weakness.

"Do I have your promise as a fellow concerned mother that no harm will come to my child?"

Gemma didn't hesitate for even a moment before frantically nodding her head.

"Good, because Julia isn't your only child. If anything happens to mine, I'll do the same to each of yours."

"I… I promise. Please don't… please don't hurt my children."

Just to make herself feel better and because perhaps she still had a little bit of resentment towards the woman for fucking her husband, Hermione slammed Gemma's head against the wall one final time before releasing her grip. The witch slid to the floor, sobbing as she went. Most of Hermione's anger began to dissipate at that moment. It was hard to be angry with someone that she had no respect for. Gemma was pathetic. At least she was able to remove two names from the list, even if Gemma and Julia Lestrange hadn't been deemed important enough to include. If they truly knew what was good for them, neither woman would be a problem again.

Not wanting to run the risk that either one of the Lestrange brothers would discover that she was there, Hermione ran as fast as she could to the gates. Anti-apparition wards would never allow her to leave the area any closer to the house. She knew that it would take nothing more than a house-elf delivering a message to Rabastan at the Ministry to get him there in seconds. Lingering could be her death.

She didn't allow herself to relax until she was walking through Draco's front door. A pain in her side kept her from moving too quickly. While she was running on pure adrenaline towards the gates, she'd been able to ignore the sharp twinge.

"Where have you been? You said that you would be here when I got back."

It was difficult to miss the slight panic in Draco's tone. Hermione rolled her eyes. She really didn't have the energy for any further dramatics.

"And you said that you would be gone for a few hours."

Another step into the interior of the flat sent even more pain through her torso. Seeing her grimace, Draco closed the space between them. Without bothering to ask for permission, he lifted her jumper to get a look at her side. Blood trickled down her skin.

"I'm not even going to ask you what you've been doing or where you've been, but couldn't you have at least been a little more careful? You've opened up one of your wounds."

He led her to his bathroom like a naughty child to tend to her cuts.

"Sometimes I wish I'd spit in my uncle's face and told him to bugger off when he ordered me to track you down the first time."

His words made her laugh, temporarily forgetting her pain. There was simply no way she would ever believe he truly meant it.